


Trapped

by mclightningqueen



Category: Cars (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Family Issues, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-13
Updated: 2019-07-13
Packaged: 2020-06-27 14:45:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19793080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mclightningqueen/pseuds/mclightningqueen
Summary: After Lightning's crash, the trip home from the hospital doesn't go as planned. Can McQueen ever catch a break? Will all of the attention bring back characters from the race car's painful past?Also posted on FanFiction.net





	1. Freedom

"I just don't understand how you could lose a semi. He's huge, Doc."

"Cut me some slack, rookie. It's been a long few weeks."

"Yeah, you're tellin' me."

Lightning shifted uncomfortably as the events of the last four weeks played over in his head. Doc took notice of Lightning's change in position but paid no mind to it. He'd quickly gotten used to to race car's altered disposition. It was rather demoralizing, but Doc understood the territory that came with a crash. He had already experienced it one too many times in his own racing career. The Hornet assumed that Lightning would be back to his own self in time to were just a part of the sport. Lightning knew what he was signing up for, and he would often times mention it to Doc that he was surprised he hadn't had a serious accident yet. One can hope for safety, but more times than often, luck is in no one's favor on the race track.

"Did he at least tell you where he was parked?" Lightning questioned, starting to get impatient.

"Don't get your fenders in a twist, kid. I can't say that I remember what he told me, but Mack is obviously around here somewhere."

Lightning sunk to the ground, his undercarriage uncomfortable against the rough sidewalk. He decided to ignore it. He was starting to feel the effects of the warm, Los Angelos heat.

"You'd think a bright red, 40-ton semi truckwould be rather easy to spot." Lightning retorted while rolling his eyes.

Unfortunately, for the pair, Mack was nowhere in sight. The St. Vincent hospital parking lot was rather spacious. Doc was starting to think that Mack hadn't even shown up to the parking lot yet. He was starting to get impatient as well, for he wanted to get the kid home as soon as possible. He was recovering quickly, but as a doctor and his friend, Doc knew that Lightning would be more comfortable at home and might even make quicker progress.

The racer and mentor had been sitting for almost 20 minutes waiting for Mack. A tense mood had developed between the two but for no apparent reason, but neither had any motivation tobreak the uncomfortable silence.

Much to their relief, the bright red sight of Mack appeared minutes later. Mack's smile was refreshing and filled Doc with comfort. A small smile crept up on his face: he knew that his racer was always in good tires.

The semi slowed to a stop in front of the hospital, honking his horn in no particular rhythm. With a simple 'click', the back door of the trailer opened. Tiny sparks erupted as the metal edge of the door made contact with the concrete.

" 'Bout time Mack. We thought you were nev-"

"Let it go, rook. He's here and that's all that matters. Let's just get you home." Doc interrupted.

Doc gently shoved Lightning's rear toward the truck, not wanting to deal with his complaining.

Mack did a double take towards Lightning, hardly recognizing him in the drab, grey primer. "S-sorry, boss, had to get gas!" Mack boomed.

Lightning turned to the trailer opening and muttered angrily under his breath.

Doc leaned into Mack, "Kid's got an attitude today. Be wary of that."

"Don't worry 'bout it Doc, can't say I'm not used to it." Mack responded quickly.

Doc sniggered at Mack's comment and jokingly thumped his side with his tire. From the side of the trailer opening, Lightning cleared his throat, with a stern glare at both Mack and Doc.

"You know I can hear you guys, right?"

"Obviously...that's why we said it!"

Mack and Doc quickly erupted into a laughter that was not appreciated by the unhappy race car.

Doc's laughter started to diminish as a more genuine expression fell over his face."Just get settled in the trailer, kid. Try and take it easy."

Lightning shot Doc a small smile before backing into the trailer, appreciative of how much he cared. Doc had grown protective of Lightning over the past years, assuming he was the closest person the kid had to a father. McQueen never talked about his family, and Doc didn't press him to. He had heard rumors about a tough childhood and assumed it was a touchy subject for the young race car. He knew Lightning would talk when he was ready. During the crash recovery, Doc often wondered if Lightning's family was even aware of what had occurred. But, whether or not Lightning's family ever came around, Doc would always treat him as if he were his own.

"Give him an easy ride, Mack." Mack nodded in acknowledgement. "I'll see you both at home in a few days."

Lightning poked his hood out of the trailer. "Wait, Doc, are you not driving along with us?" Doc could see the worry in the kid's eyes. He'd gotten accustomed to always having the doctor by his side recently, in case of emergency.

"As your primary, I have to finalize some things here and at the track. I'll arrivehome shortly after you do. You'll be fine until I get there, I promise." Lightning still looked uneasy, but gave a small nod as Doc shot him a reassuring smile. "Drive is roughly eight hours - nothing you can't handle, rookie."

"Yeah, yeah, alright." Lightning responded, backing himself back into the trailer to get settled for the long ride ahead.

Doc backed away from Mack, allowing him enough room to leave. "Have a safe drive, you two."

Lightning closed the trailer door with the press of a button, watching Doc's figure gradually get smaller as Mack pulled away from the hospital entrance. It had just occurred to him that he was finally going home. For once he would be sleeping in his own bedroom, rather than the uncomfortably clinical-feeling hospital room.

The racer was eager to get back to the butte. He planned to begin training again as soon as his body permitted, unbeknownst to Doc. Lightning would not let a crash keep him from racing; although, he was nervous about what was to come with the new season.  
Would he be ready in time? Would Storm still give him crap even after the crash? Would he be good enough? The same thoughts littered his brain constantly. It was inevitable that Lightning would eventually not be the fastest, but that didn't mean that it would be easy to handle when the time did come. The overthinking eventually started tohurt his head. Lightning let out a small sigh, let his body's exhaustion take over, and fell into a much-needed sleep.


	2. Falling

_"Listen, don't you worry pal. You had a good run. Enjoy your retirement!"_

_"Storm takes back the lead."_

_"Unbelievable! McQueen is fading...McQueen is fading...fading fast!"_

_His breaths were labored. Lightning couldn't remember the last time he was so out of breath during a race. It was uncommon for a car with his time of experience to run short on energy during the last race of the season. His engine whined as he accelerated. He ignored it. There was no time to pay mind to that. His rear axle began to shake. It shuttered underneath him, as if a screw had managed to come loose. But that wasn't important. No pain no gain, right?_

_Faster_

_"Lightning, kid, it's not worth it!" Lightning could hear Doc frantically yelling at him. He switched off his radio, not wanting to let Doc ruin his chances. He was sure he'd get a talking to from his crew chief afterwards, but chose to not let that bother him. He had a goal and would do anything to reach it._

_Faster._

_Storm's figure was getting smaller. Lightning was lagging, and he knew it. A new determination came over him, but it wasn't good enough to let him catch the black car much farther ahead._

_Faster._

_"No, no, no, no!" Lightning's eyes narrowed, focused on the pinpoint IGNTR car in front of him. The gap between them continued to increase. Lightning's undercarriage became hot. His engine stung, and his back right tire began to shake violently._

_Not fast enough._

_That's when it happened. The startling sound of a tire blowing filled the stadium. McQueen's eyes widened as he'd realized his mistake. The blow jerked his rear to the side and threw him off balance. His overcorrection forced him into the wall at full impact. Lightning closed his eyes tightly before making the inevitable contact with the concrete wall. The sound of the crash was loud enough to attract all eyes, even those of the other racers. It threw him backwards, forcing his tail end in the air. For a second time, McQueen would be remembered as the race car that flew through the air. Only this time, it was not as majestic of an ending._

_Slower._

_Everything seemed to be going in slow motion to Lightning. His face burned. The paint had been aggressively scraped off from the impact. It hadn't been enough to put him out of it, yet he wished that it had. He was sure the impact with the concrete track would not be as forgiving. McQueen had been fully aware during his first flight through the air. He assumed it would be the end of the road. He gently shut his eyes, and basked in the moment that he got to soar. In only a split second, did everything go black…_

"AHH!" Lightning screamed as he woke up, once again, from the nightmare that couldn't seem to find a place outside of his mind. Startled, his side hit the wall of the trailer, knocking down a small shelf of racing momentos. He took shallow breaths as his wide eyes darted around the trailer, realizing where he actually was. He was safe.

Mack too, was startled by Lightning's shriek and swerved out of surprise. Luckily, there were no other cars within the vicinity of the truck. He switched on his radio: "McQueen? Are you alright back there?"

Lightning let out a deep sigh as he heard Mack's voice crackle over the radio. "Yeah… yeah, I'm alright. Just another nightmare, you know how it is." His gaze shifted sheepishly toward the ground.

"It'll get better, boss, don't you worry 'bout a thing." Mack switched off his radio, confident that Lightning was alright.

The same repeated nightmare of his crash had been causing an issue for a while. Within his first week at the hospital, McQueen would not only wake himself up in a panic, but Doc as well who was often by his side. Doc was good at comforting his protégé, having understood what he was going through; however, his crash had not been even close to as bad as Lightning's. He still tried his best.

Only then did Lightning notice the mess he had created from his little episode. Using his tire, he pushed the items on the floor of the trailer against the wall, not wanting to deal with them at the moment.

"Hey, Mack, how much longer?"

After a crackle, Mack answered. "Still got a couple of hours, kid."

Lightning let out a small sigh and had started to tap his tire out of boredom. It was difficult for a race car to sit still for even a few hours. Lightning generally spent his trips sleeping, but was hesitant to nap again after his earlier dream. He found himself flipping through the channels on the television that was mounted on the back of the trailer. It was late on a Sunday, and so Lightning didn't find many shows of interest. After passing multiple infomercials, he eventually settled on RSN. Lightning had been ignoring the channel, despite his usual need to stay updated with the other racers. He was afraid of having any self-confidence crushed that he had left. The race car was not surprised that he was the topic of discussion, seeing as how he was just released from hospital care. Lightning uncomfortably turned up the volume to hear the female reporter that he did not recognize.

" -oday with the Piston Cup Champion race car, Lightning McQueen, who was released from the St. Vincent hospital earlier this afternoon. After a long, four weeks of surgeries and reconstruction, McQueen has finally begun his trip home to recover. We spoke earlier today with McQueen's crew chief and doctor, Doc Hudson."

The image switched to Doc at the race track.

"So far, he's making quick progress. It's hard to say how long it will take him to be back in full gear, based on the severity of his crash; however, I have complete faith in my racer and am confident that he will be on the track at the start of the next season."

A small smile formed on Lightning's face, feeling grateful that Doc had so much faith in him. His eyes shifted from the television to the window as the reporter switched the topic and began showing random highlights.

Lightning spent multiple minutes zoned out, with his eyes locked on the outside beyond his window. Being alone in the trailer made Lightning think of Sally. He hadn't realized how much he actually missed her. She had been with him at the hospital for almost the entire time, but ended up having to leave to ensure that the motel was actually being taken care of. Lightning often pushed for her to just go home earlier on, but she insisted on staying, no matter the motel's status. Sally didn't agree to leave until a few days before Lightning did, when his health was at a high enough level for her to be confident he would be alright. Lightning wished that she was in the trailer with him for the ride. He glanced at her small picture, glad that it wasn't on one of the shelves he had accidentally knocked down earlier on. It was difficult for him to not be excited to see her in such a short number of hours. Lightning felt significantly more sorry for Sally than he did for himself, sorry that she had to go through his recovery alone. He couldn't imagine how hard it would have been if their roles had been flipped. Having to see the only person he ever truly loved in such bad condition would have broken his heart. Lightning was glad it was all over, and that everything could finally go back to normal, or so he thought.

As the sky became darker, the tiny lights lining the ceiling of the trailer blinked on, gently glistening a variety of colors. They had been set on a timer, so that Lightning wouldn't have to think about turning them on. The scenic views of Arizona never failed to fascinate the race car. Having been adapted to the city for a large percentage of his life, the country landscapes were something foreign. He had grown to appreciate their natural beauty over the past years. Noticing the long ridge ahead atop of a short hillside, Lightning angled his hood upward toward the window, hoping to acquire the best view possible. His eyes sparkled with anticipation, and he knew it. He felt like a little kid.

Mack flipped on his headlights as the dark night sky began to fall over the road. It had been a long day of driving. The truck was finally starting to tire, but felt it best to just stick it out for only the short amount of time left to Radiator Springs. Mack was riding the outer lane of the road, enjoying the scenery that Lighting had been ogling as well. The truck was surprised to see a tractor trailer much larger than himself trying to pass him on the inside lane. It wasn't common to see a truck larger than Mack, or to see one going fast enough to pass in the left lane of the highway. The large truck gave Mack a nod of acknowledgement as it drove alongside him, and Mack returned the gesture with a smile. It wasn't until that moment that everything went downhill, quite literally. In only a split second, the very back right tire of the larger tractor trailer blew for no apparent reason, causing the vehicle to go unbalanced and veer to the right. This would normally not be a big deal if the truck had had more room on the road and had been in its own vicinity, with enough room to pull off and assess the problem; however, the truck was right next to Mack, and veered right into the side of the Rust-eze trailer.

Mack cussed under his breath as he felt the impact of the large semi, and immediately turned in to keep himself on the road. Unfortunately, Mack's trailer had been hit relatively hard and was moving with great momentum towards the side of the road. Mack's aggressive cut-in sent the Rust-eze trailer even harder to the side, causing it to easily puncture the guard rail. Gravity effortlessly pulled the end of the McQueen's trailer through the rail, and took Mack along with it, right over the side of the ridge.


	3. Fading

Hank watched on in terror as the red semi began its descent down the side of the rocky, desert ridge. It was hard to believe that just moments before he had only been minding his own business; but now, Hank had become a part of a serious issue. It had been his fault. The black semi's trailer had been due for a tire change, yet he kept putting it off. The delaminating tires were destined to blow eventually. Now, he was left with the guilt of his silly procrastination that resulted in a horrific accident.

Hank shone his lights over the edge to see the red semi slide down the ridge with great momentum until he came in contact with a group of large, sturdy trees that stood their ground and surprisingly managed to bring the truck to a halt. The trailer, however, had not been as lucky. As the semi came in contact with the trees, the trailer effortlessly disconnected and continued to roll down the ridge to the bottom, barrelling through any trees in its path. Only a few seconds later did it aggressively make contact with the bottom with a loud 'crash'. He winced as he heard the sound come from far below. The side of the ridge wasn't terribly steep, but it was a rough 150 foot drop. Hank could only hope that the semi had not been carrying anything valuable in the trailer. Only minutes earlier had he disconnected from his own trailer. It sat in the grassy median strip, full of an abundance of cans of high-performance protein fuel. He wished that it had been his trailer that had gone over the edge.

"Hey buddy, you alright? I'm-I'm so sorry!" Hank yelled frantically as he slowly inched over the side of the ridge at the spot where the guard rail had a large hole. Pebbles began to scuffle down the side as Hank's tires came closer to the edge.

"Oh, never been better!" The red semi replied sarcastically, making Hank shoot a guilty look at the ground. "All jokes aside, ha-ha, I actually think I'm fine." He said flatly. "Managed to stay upright!" The red semi shifted awkwardly against the large tree his front fender was against. Hank wasn't sure of what to say.

He attempted to break the awkward silence. "So, uh, what's your name?"

"Name's Mack. Hank could hear Mack let out a deep sigh.

"Well, I'm Hank." Another uncomfortable moment of silence lingered. What were you supposed to say to a truck you just pushed down a hill? "Are you - are you sure you're alright, Mack?" Uneasiness was prominent in Hank's words.

"Yeah, yeah I'm alright, surprisingly. But-" Mack paused, and Hank could tell he was thinking. "Damn, I doubt the kid is, though." Mack quickly stated, a sense of urgency in his voice.

"Who - what kid?"

"Lightning."

Hank paused. "Lightning who?"

"McQueen. He's in the trailer," Mack motioned toward the trailer but assumed Hank didn't notice. "Probably banged up worse than me."

Hearing the Piston Cup race car's name made Hank's eyes widen. The dark sky hadn't allowed hank to make out the decals on the side of Mack's trailer when he had tried passing him only minutes earlier. _You have got to be kidding me_. He thought, closing his eyes tightly and sighing. _Lightning McQueen is probably dead, and it's all my fault._ Hank was distracted from his thoughts when he heard Mack speak again.

"So, Hank, now that we've broken the ice, can you get some help? I gotta get to the transporter." Mack's headlights flickered on before he slowly began to work his way alongside the group of trees.

Hank tapped his tire quickly on the ground and shook his front. "Oh gosh, I'm so stupid. I should've done that first." He was lucky to have a phone built into the underside of his front fender, and quickly dialed 9-1-1. While the phone rang, headlights could be seen coming toward where Hank had been sitting. It didn't matter who it was: he would ask them to call for help as well, as soon as they got close enough. It was surprising how empty the road had been.

"9-1-1, what's your emergency?"

Hank instantly froze. "Uh...Lightning McQueen...ridge...my fault…" His voice trembled, and he couldn't seem to form an actual sentence. He let out a sharp sigh. "I...caused a big accident."

"Sir? What is your name? Can you tell me where you are?" The woman's voice on the other side of the line was somewhat soothing.

He inhaled shakily. Everything was starting to sink in. "Hank, and beginning of Route 66, I think...along I-40?"

"Do you see a mile marker, Hank?"

Hank look around frantically, until his headlights reflected off the small, green sign. "Uh, yes, mile 169."

"Ok, Hank, first responders are on their way."

* * *

Mack shut his eyes tightly as he felt his form go horizontal over the edge of the ridge. He knew that this could only end badly. His large form managed to roll once and eventually skidded to a stop when his side met a wall of sturdy trees and shrubbery that stood proudly in the middle of the ridge side. A loud "oof" escaped his lips as he came in contact.

When Mack finally opened his eyes, he was surprised to find himself on all four tires, leaned up against the thickest trees he had ever seen.

 _Boy, was that lucky!_ He thought. _If I'd fallen anywhere else along the roadside I would be in a very different situation at this moment._

Mack was grateful that the sun was no longer out, because he was sure that it would have hurt his eyes. His head throbbed, and for good reason. He was positive he at least had a concussion. The red semi found himself deeply lost in thought when it was interrupted by a large 'crash'. Mack had completely forgotten about the trailer. Oh no, Lightning… He thought as he noticed what was left of the trailer at the bottom of the ridge. It was rather dark, and Lightning's transporter was difficult to make out. Trying to look for any sign of movement from the trailer made Mack's head pound. His eyes were having a difficult time focusing. He blinked hard a few times before noticing that someone had been yelling to him.

"Hey buddy, you alright? I'm-I'm so sorry!" Mack looked up toward the the road and could only assume that he was listening to the truck that attempted to pass him earlier. He answered the black truck named Hank with a string of sarcastic words. Mack could tell Hank was young: he did not seem very sure about what to do.

Mack didn't even need to see Hank's face to know he went pale with mention of Lightning. The situation was obviously much worse than Hank had realized. Mack was sure the media would quickly find a way to blow this all out of proportion, and make Hank seem like a bad guy. It was evident that he wasn't: he made a mistake, and now he was just plain scared. Mack still gave him a hard time, though.

"So, Hank, now that we've broken the ice, can you get some help? I gotta get to the transporter." Mack heard Hank say something back but ignored it. He needed to get to Lightning.

He flipped on his lights and found that one had broken from the fall. He let the one functioning headlight guide him slowly toward the trailer. He moved in small increments to prevent sliding and injuring himself once again.

After multiple minutes of trekking down the ridge side, Mack finally reached Lightning's trailer. It was unrecognizable, to say the least. One would not have been able to guess that it was Lightning McQueen's picture on the outside of the trailer. The transporter was completely crumpled, and small pieces of red debris littered the path the trailer took. Mack made his way to the trailer door with urgency. It was broken off of its hinges, but was still jammed in the opening of the trailer. "Lightning? Kid?" Mack softly called to the race car hoping for a response, but to no avail. It was difficult to see him with the door in the way. Mack scanned the perimeter of the door to find any opening that would allow him to see inside. He found that the bottom right corner of the trailer that came in contact with the door had been broken off. It was an ample sized hole and allowed him to get his headlight in to see the kid. When he finally saw Lightning's mangled form, his heart sank. "My god, Lightning…"

* * *

It was all so sudden. The blow of the tire, Mack swerving, and the break of the guard rail all seemed to happen simultaneously. The once beautiful cliffside quickly became Lightning's biggest fear.

The red race car was confused when his driver swerved so suddenly. He called to Mack and looked around frantically, noticing the black truck next to him as well as his own trailer approaching the guard rail. Lightning began to breathe heavily as a large wave of panic set in. Before he knew it, he was looking straight down the side of the ridge.

Lightning once again felt like he was going in slow motion. The first rotation of the trailer gave him a full view of the land from his window. The stars and moon, the dusty rocks and dirt below, and the dark outline of the hills in the distance were all beautiful on their own, but worked together to be even more incredible. Unfortunately, the beautiful landscape was not as welcoming when it met the trailer.

His slow motion moment ended abruptly as the trailer greeted the hard ground. It continued with great force, obliterating everything in its path. Lightning tried to yell, but he was cut off with each winded impact his body made with the sides of the trailer. It jostled him angrily, and he wasn't sure if it was ever going to end. The mere seconds that it took for the trailer to reach the bottom were the longest of the race car's life. The Rust-Eze transporter landed at the bottom of the ridge with a deafening crash and effortlessly threw Lightning out of consciousness.

Only minutes later did Lightning come back into the world. The trailer was trashed: the lights on the ceiling flickered and eventually faded to black, the television had separated from the wall and laid crushed against Lightning's tailfin, picture frames and trophies were smashed to pieces and sat lifelessly on the ground, and the windows had been completely shattered. Glass shards littered the entire trailer. A thin pool of oil accumulated underneath Lightning, and had begun to surround his front tires. He knew he was bleeding badly, but couldn't locate where it was coming from. His rear axle felt awkward, and his roof pounded. The side of the trailer was so dented and crushed that it was digging into his side, preventing him from moving, if he even could. He slowly cracked an eye to see a silver stream of smoke escaped from an opening in his crushed hood. Not a good sign. Lightning closed his open eye and quickly found himself in a dark haze, but welcomed it. It was warm and inviting. His relaxed state was quickly interrupted by someone speaking to him. Lightning thought he heard them say his name, but he wasn't sure. _He_ could hardly remember his name at the moment. Whoever was talking to him sounded blurry. He decided to ignore the voice and allowed himself to slip back into the fuzzy haze that seemed intent on surrounding him.


	4. Unforeseen

"Thank you for sticking around Dr. Hudson. I'm sure you're very eager to get home, but this shouldn't take long," Dr. Benson smiled at Doc and moved some papers around on his desk. He was a sleek, white Lincoln Continental and had been Lightning's primary care doctor at the hospital. It was obvious to Doc that Dr. Benson had the race car's best interest at heart, and not just because Lightning's famous, but because Dr. Benson really cares about what he does.

"How long is it going to take for you to just call me 'Doc'?" he chuckled. "And it's really no problem, the drive home isn't _too_ bad," Doc assured him. He lied, the drive back was actually rather long, and it was already getting dark outside. Doc had spent more time talking with the track officials that day than he intended to. He would only be able to get going after things were settled at the hospital.

Dr. Benson nodded in acknowledgement. "Good, I'm glad. So, anyway, we need to discuss Mr. McQueen's at-home recovery plan."

"Of course."

"First things first, will Mr. McQueen reside near your practice until he is fully recovered?" Dr. Benson questioned.

"Yes, and I-" Doc was quickly cut off by a nurse that pushed open the office door so quickly that it slammed the wall behind it. Doc and Dr. Benson were both startled and turned their attention and wide eyes to the frantic nurse.

"Nurse Peyton, what's going on?" Dr. Benson quickly said, concern in his voice.

"Uh… Dr. Hudson, there's a phone call for you. It's an emergency!"

A look of worry fell over Doc's face. He quickly assumed the worse. He muttered a quick "excuse me" to Dr. Benson before following Nurse Peyton to the reception desk with great urgency.

As soon as they reached the desk, Nurse Peyton handed Doc the phone and watched on as he listened with great care. His eyes darted around the ground as he was told the news of his racer. The devastated look on his face deepened as the paramedic on the other end provided Doc with details.

"Mile 169? Ok. Phoenix? Yes, that's fine. Th-thank you, sir," Doc muttered before shakily setting down the phone on the desk. He took a deep breath. "M- may I make a phone call real quick?" Nurse Peyton gave him a small nod and a smile.

Once Doc had finished on the phone, he didn't even acknowledge Nurse Peyton before turning and rushing back to Dr. Benson's office.

As soon as Doc re-entered the office, it was quite obvious to Dr. Benson that the Hornet was distressed. Doc sat in the doorway, quite pale.

"Doc? Is everything alright? You don't look too good." Dr. Benson questioned.

"N-no. Everything is not alright, actually." Doc could not look Dr. Benson straight in the eye. "I don't think that Lightning's recovery plan matters anymore."

"But, why?" he questioned.

"Because I was just told that he's been in another accident."

* * *

"Hey, uh, Mack? Help is on the way." Hank called down to the large dark shadow he could see moving below.

"Bout time! Thanks, Hank." Mack had been making his way around McQueen's transporter, but he wasn't quite sure what exactly he was looking for. He wanted to feel like he was helping, but there wasn't actually anything that he could do to help. "I feel useless." he muttered to himself. Mack's worry regarding Lightning continued to increase with each minute that passed. The inside of the trailer had been completely still and silent since it hit the bottom of the ridge. It was obvious that the kid was unconscious, but Mack could only hope that that was all it was. _Just_ unconscious, meaning that it was possible for him to wake up.

From the roadside, quiet chatter could be heard from Hank, who was explaining the events of the accident to a few road cars that had accumulated. The black semi was very surprised at how much each car was willing to help. They all called for help and offered to stay with Hank until said help arrived. Everyone knew who Lightning McQueen was, and no one wanted to see him hurt.

Only minutes later could the sound of helicopter propellers be heard from miles away. In the distance, a blurry cluster of flashing blue and red lights could be seen on the road. The blurry cluster quickly increased in size as the group of emergency vehicles got closer, blasting their ear-piercing sirens. The sound caused both Mack and Hank to let out a deep, simultaneous sigh.

"Mater, could you fetch me some water for this vase?"

"Sure thing, Miss Sally!"

Sally and the rest of the Radiator Springs crew had spent the entirety of the day cleaning and fixing up Lightning's humble home behind Doc's clinic. It had been weeks since the place had even been touched, allowing for a thick layer of dust to accumulate. Sally and Mater, especially, had tried their best to make it as comfortable as possible for the race car, once he arrived. They knew that a quality environment would result in a faster recovery.

"No! Don't put that there! It goes over- actually, I don't know where that goes." Sally had been an anxious mess. She only wanted everything to be perfect for her boyfriend.

"Shouldn't they be here by now?" Sally questioned Mater from behind, causing him to jump slightly, a curious look on her face.

"Oh, uh, Idn't worry. I'm sure Lightnin' and Mack be just fine. Probably jus' stopped for a good meal n'at." Mater was always optimistic. Sally admired that about him.

"Ok, you're probably right. I just- something doesn't feel- nevermind. I'm just overthinking." she said as she shook her front quickly, ridding her mind of the off thoughts.

As Sally moved quickly around the living room, she carelessly backed into the small lamp table, knocking the picture frame that rest on top onto its back. Sally sighed and carefully propped the frame back up on its stand. Her stressed features turned into a soft smile when she saw the picture inside the frame: a silly candid of her and Lightning laughing at nothing in particular. She was ready for him to come home. Sally's dreamy thoughts were abruptly interrupted by someone frantically shouting her name. Flo was calling to her from the front door.

"Flo? What is it?"

"Well, there's a call for you from Doc at the Cafe. He says it's an emergency." Flo quickly said, a concerned expression on her face.

Sally's tank lurched. She'd had an odd feeling for a couple hours now, and Flo's words only gave her thoughts validation.

Sally's reaction to the news about her boyfriend had been almost a carbon copy of Doc's reaction. She lifelessly returned the phone to Flo, her eyes darting around the ground. She looked as though she were in shock.

Flo became extremely worried as she saw Sally's expression. "Sally, hon, what is it?" she questioned as she took the phone back. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"I- I gotta get to Phoenix," Sally mumbled to no one in particular. She wouldn't make eye contact with the show car next to her. Sally quickly made her way out of the cafe, and tore down the street, the sound of her engine fading as she got farther away from the small town.

Flo watched her leave, stunned, and immediately listened into the phone, to find that Doc was still on the line. "Doc? _What_ is going on?"

* * *

Doc pushed and shoved his way through the entire hospital so aggressively, any other car there would've assumed he was having a manic episode. The moment he exited the main entrance, he took off in the direction that he was supposed to take only a couple hours later. Doc was told that he'd find Lightning at the Phoenix hospital in a few hours, but he was not willing to wait.

Doc didn't think that he had driven as fast as he currently was since his days of racing. Multiple cars shot him bewildered looks as he tore down the highway, agilely weaving through the vehicles in his path. Only a few minutes later did Doc make the mistake of flying past a brisk moving police car. Without hesitation, the siren and lights of the cop car flipped on, and he began his pursuit of the speeding Hornet. Doc pulled over in defeat.

"Sir, are you aware of how fast you were going?"

"Yes, I was aware, actually!"

Only then did the officer figure out who the culprit was. "My goodness, I just pulled over the Fabulous Hudson Hornet! My apologies, sir, I'm sure you're trying to get to the same exact place I'm trying to get to." A softened expression fell over the police officer's face as he saw how disheartened Doc looked. "Don't worry, I'm sure Lightning will be fine," he said, "how 'bout a quick escort?"

"That'd be fantastic, actually. Thank you, officer."

With that, the officer and retired race car sped down the highway, to reach the accident sight in less than half the time it took Mack and Lightning. The location was hard to miss, with the involvement of an overwhelming number of emergency vehicles. The amount of flashing lights was enough to make anyone's eyes uncomfortable. It took Doc more than a few minutes to locate a trailerless Mack, who's red paint reflected every flash of light. He sat in the median strip grass with a tired look on his face. Even with the location of Mack, there was no sign of the small, primed race car.

"Oh, Mack, thank god," Doc breathed, "Can you _please_ tell me what's going on? Where is he? Wh-what even happened?"

"Jeez, Doc, take a breath! And boy did you get here fast." Doc's face quickly changed from a worried expression to one of anger. A flame of fury erupted in his eyes.

"WHAT HAPPENED, MACK?" Doc yelled angrily as the red semi shrank back, clearly surprised by the hornet's tone. "ON THE ROAD, HE'S _YOUR_ RESPONSIBILITY AND IN _YOUR_ CARE! HOW COULD YOU BE SO RECKLESS AS TO-"

"Woah!" Mack interrupted. He quickly lowered his voice after noticing that everyone was looking at them. "Doc, I swear to you, this-this wasn't my fault!" Mack refuted. "His tire just blew outta nowhere and-and he hit me but I tried my absolute best to stay on the road but the guard rail was so close and I-I couldn't do anythin' about it, Doc!" He motioned to the gaping hole in the guard rail with a flat tire.

Doc followed Mack's tire to the gap and quickly shut his eyes, tightly. He shook his front aggressively. "God, I-I-I'm so sorry, Mack. I know you always take good care of Lightning, I just-," Doc paused to think for a moment, "where is he?"

"Well, as anyone knows, a race car's transporter ain't exactly light as a hubcap, and they're havin' a hard time liftin' it up back onto the street."

Doc was surprised at how calm Mack currently was about the entire situation. "You mean, he's _still_ in the trailer?" Doc had a look of angry perplexion on his face. "Mack, HE'S PROBABLY DEAD ALREADY!" Doc's eyes darted around frantically.

Mack quickly touched the Hornet's tire with his own. "Doc, look at me!" Doc quickly made eye contact with Mack. "Lightning McQueen is _the_ strongest car that I know. He can handle anything, and he _will_ pull through."

Doc stared at Mack with his mouth agape. His eyes seemed lost, but a small nod showed that he understood the large semi.

Only seconds later did the sound of a large commotion attract the attention of both Doc and Mack. Bright lights were directed at two helicopters who slowly emerged from the ridge side. Both had thick, sturdy cables connected from themselves to various locations on the trailer. The cables had to be carefully placed to ensure that the now fragile Rust-eze trailer did not endure anymore damage. As the helicopters hovered over the road, many of the emergency vehicles quickly moved away to allow ample room for the placement of the trailer. Despite the gentle and careful placing of the trailer, it scraped and crunched against the pavement beneath it. As soon as the helicopters disconnected, the scene quickly became hectic. Everyone seemed to be moving twice as fast now.

Doc was heartbroken at the sight of the trailer. It was unrecognizable, and he could only imagine that his race car shared similar characteristics. He quickly left Mack's company and fled towards the trailer, only to be stopped by an officer. Doc ignored the cop and sadly watched from behind multiple vehicles as the trailer's door and siding were aggressively ripped from their original structure. What Doc saw next shook him to his inner core. The sight of two forklifts lifting Lightning's lifeless body out of the trailer was horrifically demoralizing. The car that Doc thought of as a son was possibly gone. He wouldn't know what to do with himself if he lost the kid. Doc was a grumpy car: he was living an unhappy life. He had adapted and was content with living that way, but he never realized what could've been until a silly race car came into his life. Without Lightning, Doc would return to his 'woe is me', depressed self, and be mad at the world for the way it treated him. He couldn't lose him. He _wouldn't_ lose him.

As the forklifts started moving Lightning toward the ambulance, Doc once again attempted to push through every emergency vehicle that obstructed his path. He was once again stopped by an officer.

"Sir, you don't have the right to go near McQueen. Get back!"

"Sorry officer, but I'd have to disagree." With that, Doc made one final shove to get through to the ambulance. They seemed to give up on trying to stop him.

It was difficult to not notice the trail of oil that followed Lightning to the ambulance, but Doc tried his best to not focus on it. He reached the back of the ambulance just as they were loading Lightning up.

"Lightning? Kid? Oh please, _please_ say something back!" Doc pleaded. He was surprised to see a twitch from the race car's mouth after a few moments.

"D-Doc?" Lightning whispered. His voice was hoarse, and each word seemed pained. He didn't open his eyes.

"Rookie!" Doc smiled slightly. "Thank the manufacturer! Everything is going to be alright, I promise."

"Doc… I don't… want to… g-go yet." It was evident that Rust-eze race car was beginning to fade. Even though Lightning's eyes were closed, a small tear still managed to escape down the battered race car's hood.

Doc started to tremble slightly, "You d-don't have to go yet, kid," a frown formed on his face as the doors of the ambulance began to close, "Just stay with me, Lightning! Everything's gonna be ok!" Doc yelled after the ambulance as it quickly started to drive away, tears in his eyes.


	5. Sit Tight

Sally let out a small yelp as she nearly side-swept the side of the automatic hospital door, missing it by only a few inches. She aggressively skidded to a stop in front of the reception desk, the squeaking of her tires attracting the eyes of multiple cars in the emergency room wing.

"Where is he?!" Sally quickly questioned, panic evident in her eyes.

"Hun, you're gonna have to be more specific," the nurse at the reception desk asked Sally gently, her empathetic eyes wide, "Who are you looking for?"

"My Stickers-er, Lightning McQueen, s-sorry," Sally breathed out a small sigh. "H-he should be here a-already." Quiet murmurs erupted between those near Sally at the mention of the famous race car's name.

The nurse shot Sally a small smile. It was obvious to her how distressed the young Porsche was. She quickly typed something into her computer, her eyes darting around the screen. "Well darlin', it looks like they've already moved your Lightnin' to the ICU, which you'll find on the third floor. Intensive care visitin' hours are already over, but there's a comfortable waitin' room up there for you to stay." The nurse looked up from the desk and once again smiled at Sally.

"T-thank you, nurse…?"

"Jackie. Nurse Jackie. And you're very welcome, dear."

Sally smiled slightly and nodded to the nurse in acknowledgement. She reminded Sally of Flo, which made her feel a bit more at ease. The small Porsche then quickly found her way to the elevator, in pursuit of Lightning.

* * *

Doc Hudson despised hospitals. It was rather ironic, but the small town doctor could never have pulled himself to be a full-time resident. The white walls and floors, sterile smell, lack of sunlight, stubborn doctors, and constant death were all common depictions of his nightmares. Doc hated it all. He did find himself assisting in an ER right out of medical school, but quickly left after realizing what he truly wanted to use his degree for - start his own small practice, wherever it may be. If it weren't for his disdain of hospitals, Doc may have never ended up in little Radiator Springs; however, he wouldn't be back in the place he hated had he never gotten involved with Radiator Springs or Lightning McQueen, a cocky little race car who he'd grown to love. It was hard for Doc to be back in the hospital, once again wondering if Lightning would make it out alive or not. You didn't need a degree in medicine to recognize that the kid was in bad shape.

Sitting in the ICU waiting room was an even worse feeling for the small town doctor. Not only was Lightning once again fighting for his life, but Doc couldn't do anything to help him. All he could do now was sit and wait, his frame resting on the cool tile. He was all alone.

"D-Doc?" Doc perked up and pulled himself to his tires after hearing a familiar voice say his name. It was Sally. He watched as she quickly approached him from down the hall. The blue porsche looked exhausted, her eyes red and a layer of dust covering her entire frame. Doc was sure his physique shared the same exact characteristics.

Sally stopped for a moment at the waiting room doorway before suddenly bursting into tears. She quickly moved toward Doc and tightly embraced him. He didn't know what else to do but embrace her back.

"Wh-when is this gonna end, Doc?" she questioned between choked sobs. "He-he doesn't deserve this!"

"I know, Sally. I know," Doc answered. "You just have to be strong for him."

"I'm just not so sure how much longer I can stay strong," she said as she left Doc's embrace. "I mean, he hadn't even recovered from his crash yet!" she said, a confused look on her face. "How's he supposed to recover from this?"

"Kid's strong, he can handle it."

"Everyone has a limit, Doc."

"Not our Lightning. He'll find a way to deal with it."

"I just-I don't understand why bad things keep happening to him of all cars," Sally pondered. She wasn't so much sad now as she was angry. Angry at whatever higher power was doing this to the one she loved. "It's not… fair." she concluded.

"Nothing's fair, Sal. But there's only so much we can do about it." Doc said gruffly, his eyes glued to the ground.

Sally cocked an eye at Doc's words. She was sure he was attempting to comfort her in some odd way, but it was not working.

"How can you be so calm about all this?" she questioned. "It's like you don't even care!"

Doc immediately looked up from the ground, his stern eyes glaring at the blue Porsche in front of him, making shallow accusations. Now, he was angry. Doc had cried for Lightning. He had already been scared for the entirety of the night, Sally just wasn't there to see it. At this point, he was too exhausted to be extremely worried.

"How could you _dare_ accuse me of not caring? I think of Lightning as nothing less than a son! Obviously, I'm more than terrified for him, Sally. I'm not completely sure what I'd even do with myself if I ever lost him! So, for you to think that I don't care is… just crazy. I'm offended you'd even think that!" He spat angrily in one breath.

He breathed heavily and avoided making eye contact with Sally. She looked at him with shock on her face, unsure of how to respond to Doc's short rampage. Sally didn't know if she had ever heard the old car say so much at once, let alone yell that much at once.

The pair sat in tense silence for multiple minutes, unsure of what to say after the uncivilized exchange of words, which was not typical of either car. After realizing that she was the one that needed to apologize, Sally eventually spoke up, embarrassed.

"I-I'm sorry, Doc," she said quietly. "I shouldn't have accused you of something like that. I know you care about him more than anything."

"It's alright, Sally," Doc let out a deep sigh. "We were both insensitive. I'm sorry for yelling."

"Don't be," she said. "You had the right to."

Doc nodded in acknowledgement at Sally. The two cars once again sat in silence for a short period, until Doc eventually spoke up.

"Ya know, I talked to him." Doc said, clearly throwing Sally off-guard.

"You what? When?" she eagerly questioned.

"While they were loading him in the ambulance," Doc said. "He wasn't totally aware though, I don't think. I could tell that he'd been going in and out of consciousness. It must've gotten worse by the time he was in the ambulance. I saw it stop just down the road where they moved him to a helicopter to lifeflight him here. Not quite sure why they didn't originally choose to just do that in the first place. Woulda' made it a hell of a lot easier and faster. Everything was sort of a big cluster, though. No one seemed to be thinking straight. I'm just glad they got the kid here alive."

Sally wasn't quite sure how to respond. It was a lot of information to take in a one time.

"Well, wh-what did he say?" she finally asked. Doc was reluctant to answer this question and shifted uncomfortably against the wall next to him. "Doc?"

"He said he, uh, didn't want to… go yet." Doc answered quietly, not looking at Sally.

Sally's tank lurched at hearing these words. She once again, quickly assumed the worse.

"Well wh-what does that mean? What does he mean he doesn't want to go yet?" she frantically questioned.

"I-I don't know, Sally. I just told him he didn't have to go yet. I wasn't quite sure what to think." Doc responded solemnly.

Sally's gaze shifted toward the ground while tears slowly lined her eyes. Doc could tell she was thinking.

"I know neither of us wants to admit it, but I think we both know what he meant, Doc," Sally said, a tinge of sadness in her voice. "But he-he's just too young." Sally moved from facing Doc to his side, as tears slowly rolled down her hood. She gently rested against his left side, his body radiating a comfortable warmth.

"I know Sally. Bad things happen to good cars; it doesn't seem right, but that's just the way it is." Doc said.

Sally pondered that thought for a moment.

"Yeah, I suppose you're right. You're always right, Doc." she said, causing them both to lightly chuckle.

"Not sure why I didn't ask this sooner," Sally began, "But where is Lightning?" she questioned.

Doc cleared his throat before responding. "He's been in surgery since before I even got her. If he makes it, they'll move him here, to the ICU. I haven't heard anything for hours, which could be bad or good, I suppose. Hopefully the latter. All we can do now is play the waiting game." Doc let out a small sigh.

"He'll make it," Sally assured. "I know he will."

"I sure hope so."

The pair sat in silence for a few minutes and both fell into a much needed sleep.

* * *

"Dr. Hudson? Dr. Hudson, wake up."

Doc's groggy eyes slowly opened to see the doctor sitting in front of him.

"Wh-where am I?" Doc questioned, blinking his eyes, hard. "What happened?"

"You're in the hospital, Dr. Hudson."

Doc's eyes quickly flew open, making the younger doctor quickly realize his mistake.

"Er, you're not _admitted_ to the hospital, you're just at the hospital. Sorry about that." He said. "I'm Dr. Han, and I've been working on Lightning McQueen's case since he arrived here earlier tonight."

Dr. Han was a silver Chrysler 300. A surgical mask with splotches of oil hung from his left rear-view mirror, and oil streaks covered his front fenders.

The events of the night quickly came flooding back to Doc all at once. He was wide awake now.

" _Damn it_ … Lightning," Doc hissed. "H-how is he? Is he alive?"

Dr. Han was hesitant to answer and motioned toward the sleeping Porsche next to Doc.

"Is this-"

"Lightning's girlfriend. Of many years." Doc interrupted.

"Do you want to wake her up so I can explain to you both what's going on?" Dr. Han asked.

Doc looked Sally over. "No, I think we should just let her sleep. I can explain everything to her later. She may not even understand it coming from you."

"I understand," Said Dr. Han. "We can go to the small conference room around the corner and talk. Just follow me."

Doc looked Dr. Han over as they drove side by side down the hall. He wanted to suggest that the Chrysler wash up and rid himself of the oil that was probably Lightning's, but he kept his words to himself.

As they entered the conference room, Doc glanced at the clock. It read _5:56 am_. Lightning had been in surgery for almost eight hours.

"Listen," Dr. Han began. "I'm going to be frank with you. It's not looking good right now."

Doc was glad his tank was empty. He could've hurled right there.

"B-but he's alive, right?" Doc questioned, uneasily.

"Yes, he is alive, but he endured an extensive amount of damage which provided multiple surgical complications. He lost a _lot_ of oil, much of which is on me, currently," Dr. Han chuckled softly. "But we were able to stop most of the bleeding."

"I'm guessing he's not conscious?" Doc asked.

"Unfortunately, you guess correctly. He's comatose, currently. Critical, but stable."

"So, what kind of damage are we talking about here, Dr. Han?"

"Uh, well, the fact that he was still rather fragile from his earlier crash didn't help anything very much. Because of his recent frame reconstruction, his body crushed more easily as it came in contact with the sides of the trailer. That lead to some intense internal bleeding. I mostly concerned about his roof which took a lot of damage, so obviously we're concerned about brain swelling and so on. In addition, his windshield got cracked, his front axle is fractured, his right side got punctured by the trailer, his frame is severely deformed, and we had to completely remove his rear axle." Informed Dr. Han.

A horrified look fell over Doc's features. "You… _what_?" He asked. "Why would you ever remove his entire axle?"

"Uh, well, most of it had already been off by the time they got him out of the trailer and there wasn't enough to salvage."

Doc's face quickly changed from one of shock to one of humor as he began to chuckle darkly.

"Oh, he is _not_ going to like that when he wakes up."

It was obvious to Dr. Han that the Hornet was experiencing a myriad of emotions. Evidently, he was choosing to compensate with humor.

"Dr. Hudson…" A sympathetic look fell over Dr. Han's face. Doc understood it all too well, and his chuckle quickly went null as he sunk down on his chassis.

"You don't think he's going to wake up, do you?" Doc quietly questioned, his eyes fixed on the ground.

" _Hey_ ," Han asserted, making Doc look up. "You can't lose hope. My goal is for Lightning to make it through the next 24 hours. If his condition goes downhill before then, that's when we'll really start to worry, alright?"

"Yeah, alright." Doc breathed.

"Now, how about you go get some more rest. You can see Lightning in a few hours, but I or someone else will come get you before then if something changes."

"Okay, thank you, Dr. Han."

"No need to thank me," Answered Dr. Han. "Just doin' my job." He smiled at the Hornet, who quickly smiled in return.

Doc closed his eyes as he settled back down next to a soundly sleeping Sally. He didn't expect to get much sleep after just receiving that plethora of information from Dr. Han. His mind buzzed with medical knowledge, worries, regrets, guilt, and everything else under the sun. His body screamed 'sleep', but his brain screamed 'think' - a vicious battle he knew his body would lose. Like he had told Sally earlier, all that was left to do was play the waiting game.


	6. Fear of Flying

Doc Hudson gazed out the window, staring at nothing in particular, while fat drops of water danced down the glass. The rain came as a great surprise, but no one seemed to mind; if anything, the bone-dry land welcomed it. Dull parking lot lights lit up each drop, contrasting the dark sky. The Hornet's eyes were full of a perpetual emptiness, contagious to anyone who dared make eye contact.

Doc sulked in the corner of what would soon be Lightning's permanent hospital room, assuming he made it through the next few hours. Han gave him 24 hours, and he'd already made it 19 with only one minor hiccup. Hopefully, in five hours Lightning would be moved from the other side of the ICU floor to the more comfortable room Doc was currently occupying.

Sally quietly knocked on the cracked door before pushing it open the rest of the way.

"So this is where you've been hiding."

"It's quiet in here." Doc answered, not looking away from the window. "I can't look at him in that other room. It's too much for me."

"Yeah, I understand." Sally said in a comforting manner. She was currently handling things much better than Doc, who didn't seem to know what to do with himself. Their roles seemed to have switched from the day before.

"Ya know," Sally began, "Mater and the others should be here shortly."

"Oh, well that's nice."

"After you talked to Flo they all wanted to come immediately, but I told them to just wait the day out. Sure enough, as soon as the workday ended, they insisted on coming no matter how late."

Doc finally broke his stare to glance at the clock radio on the bedside table. It read _1:20 am_.

"Where will they stay?" He questioned.

"There's a hotel down the street. They reserved rooms for us, too," Sally said with a small smile. "We can meet them there in a little while if you want. It's getting late."

It was obvious that Sally was itching to leave the hospital, confident that Lightning would be fine for the time being. Doc, on the other hand, worried about not being able to live with himself if something were to happen while he wasn't there.

"Sally, I'm not going anywhere until he's moved and settled." Doc said in a matter-of-fact manner.

Sally's eyes were sad but full of understanding."Well, alright, Doc." She began to turn towards the door before stopping. "Just-just make sure you take care of yourself too, okay?"

Doc turned to look at the Porsche. "I'll be fine, Sally. I promise." He assured her. She flashed him a small smile before leaving the room and quietly shutting the door.

The Hornet let out a deep sigh as he momentarily closed his eyes. He knew they were going to have a long road ahead of them. Again. Doc felt exhausted just thinking about it… or was he already exhausted? His eyes yearned to stay closed and rest, and he let them. A few minutes of rest couldn't hurt…

_"It feels so great to be back out here!"_

_"Just don't push it too much right now, it is your first time out since the accident." Doc crackled over Lightning's radio._

_"You worry too much, Doc."_

_A freshly painted and radiant Lightning McQueen raced around Willy's Butte, like nothing had even happened. It wasn't showing that he'd been out of commission for months. With each lap his smile grew, his confidence increased, and his attitude brightened. Nothing could get in his way this time._

_"That Storm will regret ever messing with you! This year, you're gonna come out stronger and faster than ever."_

_"I'm glad you think so, old man!"_

_"Watch it, rook." Doc shot back._

_Lightning chuckled at his crew chief as he blew around the track, putting fresh tire marks in dirt that hadn't been touched for many months. As Lightning hit turn 3, the one he had spent so much time mastering, his face changed from one of eagerness to one of concern. Maybe he had gone too wide, or hit a sandy patch, but before he knew it he was once again skidding toward the cacti pit at the end of the track. In only seconds, Lightning found himself going over the edge of the track to where he would find a rather painful ending._

_"Goddamnit, Lightning." Doc grumbled as he aggressively shook off his headset and began his descent toward the cacti, not particularly excited about having to pull each and every spike out of his racer._

_"Hey, kid, you ok? You haven't done that in a long ti-" Doc gasped in horror as he neared the edge of the track overlooking the cacti pit; however, it was no longer a pit full of prickly cacti, but a deep, empty gorge with a rocky bottom. And there, at the bottom, lay a broken and battered Lightning McQueen. A pool of oil quickly surrounded his shattered form._

_"No...no, L-Lightning," Tears pricked the corners of Doc's eyes. "Th-this was my fault I-I-I shouldn't have let you come out this early or I sh-should've checked the track for bad areas… I-I'm so sorry I could've prevented this…"_

_Doc began to sob hysterically as waves of guilt flooded through his body. He looked over to see that Sally had appeared next to him, looking down at her boyfriend. She was uncomfortably calm._

_"This is all your fault, Doc." She said, her voice monotone and her eyes glued on Lightning. Her face remained emotionless. "You let him down, Dr. Hudson."_

_"Dr. Hudson-"_

"Dr. Hudson? Hey, wake up." Dr. Han gently shook Doc's tire. "Dr. Hudson?" He said more aggressively.

Startled, the Hornet awoke with a yelp. He was breathing heavily and a thin layer of sweat coated his figure.

"Are you alright?" Dr. Han questioned. "I've never seen someone look so troubled while they were asleep."

"Uh, yeah I-I'm alright. Just a weird...dream." Doc answered, his brow furrowed in confusion.

Dr. Han looked at him questioningly. "Alright then…" he quickly decided to move on. "Anyway, I brought you some company." Dr. Han said with a smile as he motioned toward a beat up Lightning.

Doc couldn't believe himself - he had been asleep for almost six hours! The clock radio now read _6:03 am_. Lightning had been moved to his new room without the Hornet even knowing. To say the least, Doc was very disappointed in himself.

After finishing his moment of self-loathing, Doc slowly began to move toward Lightning with a sad smile on his face. He couldn't lie, the kid looked like he'd been to hell and back, but Doc was glad to see that he was still alive.

"I have to be honest, I didn't think he'd make it this long." Dr. Han admitted.

"I have to be honest, too," Doc began, "Even for as much faith as I have in him, I didn't think he'd make it, either."

"He seems like a strong car."

"Oh, trust me, he is." The two doctors sat in silence for almost a minute while a nurse adjusted one of Lightning's machines. They were both obviously tired.

"Well," Dr. Han breathed. "I'm going to do my morning rounds, and then I'll be back in to talk to you about what's goin' on here. Sound good?"

"Sounds fine." Doc said through a yawn.

"Maybe get some more sleep." Han suggested, before exiting the room with the nurse, leaving Doc alone with Lightning.

The Hornet looked the younger car over, not hiding the worry on his face. Lightning's state was concerning to Doc. His frame was still full of dents- the type of dents that required surgery because they would be too painful to put back into place if Lightning were conscious; his windshield was covered with a thin layer of bandages, leading Doc to assume that any cracks had been fixed; his hood was opened slightly, allowing a myriad of wires and tubes to flood out to their respective machines; his front axle was propped up in a bulky brace, supporting two measly tires that most definitely needed replacing; his rear axle was gone completely, leaving his back end to be held up by a jack on each side; the respiratory intubator placed in his mouth was obviously helping him breathe; his primer had been scraped off from most parts of his body leaving his metal flesh exposed, and his frame itself was most definitely off-kilter. Long story short, Lightning was not as easy on the eyes as he normally was. Doc could only imagine how vulnerable the kid would feel if he were conscious. The Hornet was almost inclined to cover him up with a blanket.

"You gotta stop scaring me like this, rookie." Doc lifted his tire about an inch off the floor. "You're about this close to giving me an engine attack." He chuckled lightly. A response was unlikely, Doc knew that; however, just because Lightning was in a coma and incapable of responding didn't mean that he couldn't hear what was said to him. Although, Doc still would not have minded hearing Lightning's voice over the steady beeping of the monitor.

"Ya know, kid, it's rude to give cars the silent treatment." Doc chuckled softly, knowing Lightning would've appreciated his humor. ' _Ha, hospital jokes'_ he thought to himself. "Well, if it's alright with you, I'm gonna take a drive to the cafeteria to get some oil." Doc made his way toward the opposite side of the room but stopped in the doorway. "Now, stay put, Lightning!" He retorted. "I'm an awful, old man." he grumbled to himself as he made his way toward the elevator.


	7. Out of Your Control

Margaret began to doze off on the sofa as the television quietly flickered in front of her. The maroon Mercedes Benz CLA 250 Coupe found herself uninterested in what was playing and repeatedly nodded off until louder noises on the television caught her attention, snapping her brain awake. Annoyed with the pattern, she stretched her tire for the remote to shut the television off, that is, until a breaking news intro flashed on the screen. Margaret was startled to see a photograph of a familiar red race car pop up. She quickly turned up the volume using the remote, and then moved off the sofa and closer to the television.

_"-and in breaking news tonight, Piston Cup champion, Lightning McQueen, faced yet another accident when a semi collided with his trailer, sending both McQueen and his driver over the side of a ridge."_

The camera shot quickly changed to the female reporter at the scene of the accident. It was pitch black outside, but the almost unrecognizable trailer could be made out in the back as blue and red lights flashed and reflected off its sides.

_"McQueen, having barely recovered from his accident on the race track only weeks ago, was on his way home from the St. Vincent's hospital in Los Angeles. The incident occurred only an hour from McQueen's home in Radiator Springs, Arizona. He was quickly life-flighted To Phoenix where his condition is currently unknown. McQueen's driver only sustained minor injuries, while the champion race car took most of the fall. It is believed that they were the only vehicles to be affected. Our thoughts go to McQueen and his driver, and to any other cars that may have been involved. We apologize for interrupting your regularly scheduled program-"_

Margaret stared at the television, her eyes wide and her mouth slightly agape.

"M-my Monty… Lightning… he-he's hurt again…" She said out loud to nobody in particular. She quickly flipped to the news channel that had done the breaking news segment, assuming they were covering the whole story.

"Maggie? Who are you talking to?" A deep male voice suddenly questioned from the side of the lavish living room opposite of Margaret. She whipped around to look at her husband sitting in the doorway, who had a puzzled look on his face.

"What's wrong with you?" The charcoal BMW M5 questioned in a condescending manner as he drove over to his wife. His paint glimmered brightly as he moved in front of the television, outlining his smooth, ironclad build. Lightning's body physique strongly resembled that of his father's, more so than his mother's. Her body grew stiff and she backed away as he came closer.

"N-nothing, Franklin, I-I'm fine!" She responded, her voice raising in pitch, making it quite obvious that something was indeed wrong. He cocked an eyelid, not convinced.

"Then, why so tense?" He questioned. Franklin watched as Margaret's gaze quickly darted to the television and back to him. He swiftly drove to where she sat, shoved her away from the television and grabbed the remote to turn it up for himself. As Lightning's story quickly flooded Franklin's thoughts, he began to seethe with rage.

"Oh, I get it, Maggie. You obviously enjoy going behind my back, don't you? Do you enjoy that? Do you _like_ making me angry?" With each question, he moved closer to Margaret, forcing her to move back until she bumped the wall behind her. As she opened her mouth to answer his string of questions, he quickly continued, not letting her get a word in. "How many times do I have to tell you that we do not acknowledge him? He doesn't even deserve the light of day from us, understood?"

"B-but he's our so-"

"He is _garbage_ , Maggie!" Franklin shouted so loudly it caused Margaret to wince. He picked up the remote once again, and angrily whipped it at the wall. Margaret gasped as it shattered into many pieces. "He was a disappointment from the start, and I actually don't understand how you're so dim to have not recognized that by now!"

In that moment, Margaret McQueen decided to do something she hadn't done in years - talk back, even though she knew she would deeply regret it.

 _"You're wrong,"_ She quietly hissed.

Without hesitation, Franklin picked up his front right tire and struck Margaret across her left cheek. Hard. She knew it was coming as soon as the conversation started, and braced herself out of habit as the blow came. Franklin's hit not only scraped her paint off, but left a measly dent as well. She knew she'd regret talking back.

"Don't you _dare_ pull that attitude with me again." He demanded as he turned to leave the room. "Now, I'm having dinner with Johnson tonight. You don't have to wait up." She didn't bother with an answer and glared at him as he exited the doorway, her trunk still against the wall. Her breaths were quick and deep.

Franklin McQueen's personality was one of sheer confusion, to say the least. To be a mayor, you have to be good with the people, and he was. To say that the cars of Portland, Oregon loved him would be an understatement. He was also a car of business, and owned a chain of upscale hotels spread across the state. His hundreds of employees looked up to him and also treated him with the utmost respect. Franklin McQueen was a brilliant car; however, brilliance is not always a safe thing for a car to have.

When he was at home, Franklin had a temper. A physical temper, to be specific. Both Lightning and his mother knew it all too well. More times than not, Franklin would return home after a fight and beg his wife for forgiveness for his actions. But, his regret was short lived, and the cycle eventually picked back up. For Lightning on the other hand, the elder McQueen had no remorse. From the first time his father ever physically punished him, Lightning found himself counting the days until he graduated from school. At the glorious age of 18, he could leave his childhood home and never return.

**Portland, Oregon**

**1991 - Age 6**

_"Mama?"_

_"Yes, Peanut?" she responded, her rear facing her son as she sat at the sink, scrubbing a pan._

_"Why does Daddy hate me?" asked the tiny, red car._

_Margaret's face twisted out of confusion. "Your father doesn't hate you, he loves you." she responded gently._

_"I forgot to bring in the paper, and he hit me a lot." the small car responded, his features sad. His eyes focused down on his hood._

_Margaret stopped washing the pan, and turned from the sink to her son. He looked up at her with big eyes. Her mouth dropped into a frown as she saw the small dents and scratches that littered his frame. She took a damp rag in one tire and held his chin with the other, then gently began to wipe a spot of dirt off of his cheek, "Your father is just stressed, Peanut," she assured him, "Work is stressful."_

_The small car pondered her words, "But Mama, kids at school get in trouble with the principal if they hit each other!" he protested._

_"Yes, sweetheart, because hitting is bad. Don't ever hit anyone."_

_"But Dad-"_

_"Shhh," she hushed gently, "Go wash up for dinner, Peanut." she said as she turned back to the sink, the corners of her eyes filling with moisture._

Margaret threatened to leave with her son a number of times, but both she and Franklin knew that she wouldn't be able to make it on her own. The Mercedes had not worked since she was in college. Her husband's work made more than enough for them to both get by with ease. If she were to take off with Montgomery, they would have no money and nowhere to live.

After composing herself, Margaret flipped off the television by pressing a button on the side, due to the remote being in pieces. She ensured that her husband had left the house before quickly entering the study to use the computer. With the click of a few buttons, a travel site appeared on the screen. A list of flights going all over the country covered the monitor. After choosing the flight she desired, Margaret began to dig around her front wheel well, looking for the small wallet that contained her credit card. After finding it and entering her information, she was all set. She cleared the search history before leaving the study to make her own dinner.

Hours later, Franklin McQueen arrived home from his dinner. Margaret knew Johnson was a client, and assumed they had met to talk business.

Margaret sat in bed reading a book when her husband finally rolled in.

"How was dinner?" she asked, but truly didn't care.

"It was fine. Johnson had some ideas for the hotels and we're both rather excited. I can tell you more about it tomorrow," he said as he pulled himself onto the other side of the mattress. He pulled the cover over his backside and took his own novel and reading glasses off of the nightstand to read. The couple sat in silence for a few minutes before Franklin spoke up.

"I'm sorry about tonight, honey," he said, but Margaret didn't look up from her book. "You know I have a bad temper," he chuckled lightly.

"It's fine," she answered, but was disappointed in his apology. "Happens to the best of us." Both cars read in silence for a few minutes before Margaret eventually spoke.

"I'm visiting my sister next week," she said flatly. "She wants me to see her new baby."

Franklin turned slightly and looked at his wife over his reading glasses. "Oh, that's nice," he responded, surprised. "I've wanted to meet the new nephew, myself."

"I would have asked you to come, but I know how busy you're supposed to be next week." she responded quickly.

"Yes, you're right," he admitted with a small sigh. "We'll have to go together another time," he said with the tiniest of smiles. "Long flight?" he questioned.

"Under two hours, Reno's not very far."

"Well, that'll be nice. Give Sheila and Bill my best," he said sincerely.

Margaret shot a fake smile at him in acknowledgement before reaching to turn off the light on her nightstand. She settled down on the mattress and reflected over the awkward conversation they just had. Although, it would've been much more awkward if she had told Franklin where she was actually going - Phoenix, Arizona.

* * *

_Knock-knock-knock!_

"Come in!" boomed a hefty voice.

Doc Hudson used great force to open the massive door, revealing a beaming Mack, who was having some minor dents pulled. The Hornet figured the truck wouldn't mind someone venturing to the 'large vehicle' wing of the hospital to check in on him, for Lightning was not the only one involved in the incident. Doc would also be lying to himself if he thought he didn't need anyone to talk to about what happened, and who better than the kid's driver?

"Hey there, Mack." Doc said with a small smile as he parked himself in front of the semi.

"Doc! Great to see ya," Mack responded cheerfully, his joyful demeanor refreshing to the Hornet, "How ya doin'?"

"Well, I suppose I've been better but, I'm okay." Doc answered honestly. The white minivan doctor who had just finished Mack's last dent quietly left the room before Doc spoke again, "It's just hard, ya know?"

Mack gave Doc an understanding look and a small nod, "Of course," he licked his lips and thought for a moment, "With something as major as his wreck happening only weeks ago, no one expects this sorta thing to just happen again. I mean, we're all in the same position as we were a month or so ago, wondering what's gonna happen, wondering what the future will bring," he paused for a moment, "It's sorta unfair."

"You're completely right," Doc said quietly, jealous of how easily Mack could find the words to describe what he was feeling, "Anyway, how're you doing?"

"Oh, I'm doin' fine," he said with a warm smile,"Just a concussion and some nasty dents which I think they're just about done fixing."

"That's good, that's good."

"Yeah… I got lucky," Mack admitted, "For once my size worked to my advantage!" he chuckled lightly.

"I'm really glad you're okay, Mack. I would've hated to see you both go down the drain." Doc said, worry in his eyes.

"Lightning hasn't gone down the drain, Doc."

The Hornet ignored his response.

"Can I ask you something?" Doc questioned.

"Anything."

"How are you so… _okay_ … with all of this? You seem so optimistic."

Mack pondered for a moment, "Well, as a professional driver I'm on the road for 'bout 95 percent of the time. I see accidents throughout the day, Lightnin' sees accidents throughout the day. The other five percent of my time I'm at the racetrack. I see accidents there, Lightning sees accidents there, and over time you learn to forget and move on. It's sad and even scary when that kinda thing happens, but it jus' comes with the territory," Mack paused, "In terms of our pal Lightning… I have faith in him because he is one of the strongest - maybe even _the_ strongest car I know. I'll say it 'till the day I die. Sometimes I believe that he _can_ handle anything."

"I guess I just didn't see this kind of thing as often in my day. Racing was a different creature back then, and cars almost never wrecked. That's why mine was such a shock," Doc stared at the tiles on the floor while he reminisced on his racing days,"Everything just seems to move more quickly these days. Much more dangerously."

"It's hard not being able to control any of it." Mack added.

"That's just it!" Doc scuffed his tire on the floor.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, Doc, but I think we both know you see that boy as a son, and no one should have to see a son go through this. You just care, and there's nothing wrong with that," Mack reached a tire to give the car a gentle nudge, "Doesn't mean it makes it any easier."

"I just feel so useless. I feel like I could be doing something."

"Ya know, I felt like that too," Mack agreed, causing Doc to raise an eyelid, slightly surprised, "When we were at the bottom of the ridge, I did anything and everything in my power to get down to him. But, when I actually got there, there was nothing I could do. I just sat there and felt sorry for us."

"That must've been scary for you. I couldn't even imagine." As Doc said these words, he saw Mack's features turn into ones of sadness. This was foreign to the Hornet, for he had never seen the semi less than chipper. Doc couldn't even begin to wonder how he would have dealt with that situation, had it been him instead.

"Just be thankful you weren't there," Mack chuckled softly.

"Actually, Mack," Doc moved over to the window in the room to look out, but his body was still facing the truck. The bright morning sunlight felt warm against his hood, "That's partially why I wanted to come down to see you."

"Oh?"

"You see, I _wasn't_ there, and I didn't know what had happened, and I was sorta just freaking out," Doc looked away from the window and made eye contact with Mack, "But that didn't give me the right to blow up on you like I did. And I just wanted to apologize again."

The red semi nodded and smiled in acknowledgment.

"It wasn't even close to your fault, and I deeply regret blaming you."

"Eh, it's alright, Doc. I knew you didn't mean it." The Hornet smiled at Mack's forgiveness. He'd been wanting to get that guilt off his chassis for a while.

"Well, I should probably go check on the kid." Doc said as he made his way to the door.

"Yeah, you tell that old man to quit snoozin'!"

"Hey, if he's old, then that means I'm old!," Doc laughed wholeheartedly, for the first time in a while. He stopped and reversed before exiting the doorway, "And thanks for talking. I think I needed that."

"Anytime, old man."

"Watch it." Doc chuckled as he made his way out of the room to begin his trip to the far side of the hospital.


	8. Encounter

"He's not coming," Sally stated flatly as she set down the phone.

"What do ya' mean he's not comin' suga'?"

Sally gave Flo a shake of her hood and shot a small smile at the ground, "I mean he won't leave the hospital. I don't think the man has eaten in days."

"Eh, I'm sure he can take care of himself, man. I mean the guy is, in fact, a doctor," Ramone chuckled lightly.

"I know, but shouldn't everyone have someone looking out for them?"

Murmurs of agreement erupted as the gang from Radiator Springs, once again, failed to get their stubborn town doctor to join them at the hotel.

A slow four days had already gone by since the night of the incident, with zero response from the comatose race car. With no more tears left to cry, the close-knit group spent most of their time entertaining each other in Sheriff's hotel room - much to his disdain - for he had somehow managed to end up with the largest room out of everyone. Each day, they awoke at the same time and ventured to the hospital to visit. They would ask for updates, greet Doc, and share a few words with Lightning, just so he knew they were still thinking about him. The Porsche visited more often than the others. Sally found it humorous that, even away from home, they all managed to fall into the same schedule.

Doc Hudson, on the other hand, was not too keen on the idea of leaving the hospital. His hate for the eerie building was not as strong as his concern for Lightning, which made it hard for him to want to be anywhere else than right next to the race car.

"He hates hospitals!" Sally finally exclaimed, ready to give up on the Hornet.

"Sal-"

"Lightning will probably just be this way forever! I-I don't see why Doc's so invested!" The Porsche yelled, almost out of breath.

Everyone in the room stared at Sally, surprised, before glancing at each other.

"Yah don' know that," Mater answered, having been quiet for the entirety of the conversation. Sally only stared at him, confused. Her eyes were glassy with tears threatening, but not succeeding.

"I just… don't have the faith this time," The Porsche stated quietly, but in a matter-of-fact manner before racing out of the room. Nobody followed.

* * *

Beeping. Constant, repeated beeping. He managed to find comfort in it and be scared of it all at the same time. Doc glared at the monitor as it beeped rhythmically. As indicated by the screen, Lightning's engine was pumping oil, and his lungs were inhaling and exhaling air. The Hornet was content with that. The kid wasn't regressing. He was alive, but only by means of life support. The fear came with the idea of the doctors pulling the life support; his engine would stop pumping oil, and his lungs would stop inhaling and exhaling air. He wouldn't progress. He would be dead.

Fifty percent of Doc's thoughts revolved around the worry - the worry of losing his boy. The other half, having forced its way into his conscience, were guilt centric. The Hornet continuously questioned his own role in the string of events. If he had gone with them, would the trailer still have fallen? If he were a better doctor, would he have let Lightning leave the hospital in Los Angeles that early? Did he deserve to be the last one to have a conversation with the kid before he went under? Should he have blamed Mack, or should he have blamed himself? It was questions like these, which he knew he'd never get the answer to, that rocked him to his very core. Doc knew that his guilt would only resolve if Lightning woke up.

It was early in the morning when Doc woke up, the time was pushing 8 AM. He chuckled at the fact that Lightning typically awoke at that time, having been more of an early bird than most cars would expect. Some days, Lightning would have to wake Doc, eager to get a jump on the day. The thought of the boisterous race car seemed foreign.

Lightning seemed to follow the same schedule almost every day, and only in that moment did Doc realize how much of a perfectionist the kid really was. The young race car could be found parked in Flo's each morning with a warm can of oil and a coffee. Doc felt as though Lightning was jumpy enough without the coffee, but the red car argued that he just liked the taste and enjoyed feeling like an adult. He always made it there a few minutes before 8 so that he could watch the hourly world news. Most race cars didn't find it important to stay up-to-date on anything that wasn't on RSN, but Lightning found it important to be aware of what was going on in the world around their small town. He could often be heard cursing at government decisions or whooping when the weatherman called for rain in their area. Then, it was off to the butte for training, followed by the headquarters. Everybody knew that Lightning would feel weird for the entire day if he got off-schedule, so they tried to not intervene. Doc especially, knew the importance of the racer's order of things.

The Hornet pondered for a moment, and then quickly left Lightning's room before returning with yesterday's newspaper that he finagled from the nurses break room. He snagged his reading glasses off of the window sill and moved over to the race car's left side before resting down on his chassis, the newspaper flat on the floor in front of him. He swiftly popped the glasses onto his hood.

"How 'bout some news, kiddo?" Doc asked, before opening the paper to the page with foreign affairs. He knew Lightning wasn't awake to interact with him, but he knew that the race car could still hear him.

The Hornet read off information about Iran's Nuclear Deal, the 2020 Democratic primary, and other topics until he felt as though he had hit all of the major points. Doc found himself reading silly comics and chuckling out loud when he was interrupted by a car entering the room.

Dr. Han rolled into the room with a small smile on his grill and an eyelid cocked, surprised to hear Doc laughing.

"What's got you all chipper?" Han chuckled, the Hornet's happiness contagious.

"Oh, Lightning's jokes are just too damn funny," Doc smiled. Han laughed heartily at Doc's amusement with the situation, and assumed Lightning would have laughed all the same had he been awake, "Not really, I'm just reading him some silly comics. He likes the news," Doc closed the newspaper on the floor and gently set his glasses on top of it, assuming Han wanted to talk.

"I'm just checking on some things," The silver Chrysler stated as he poked at monitor buttons and flipped through the clipboard that was sitting in the frame at the end of Lightning's mattress.

"How's he doing?" Doc questioned, the concern evident in his voice.

"Well, that's what we're trying to figure out. I'm still waiting on some scans. Everything seems to be backed up."

Doc gave Han a knowing look before he spoke again, "So, what now?"

"Well, some nurses will be here in just a minute to do pre-op, and then we'll go from there."

Doc quickly looked confused, "Wait, pre-op? You're taking him back in?"

"Yes, he's stable enough and we'd like to get moving as soon as possible."

"Right, of course. I-I'll let the others know."

It felt like it had only taken moments for the nurses to prep Lightning and take him away. Once again, Doc felt alone. Even with an unconscious race car, he still felt like he had company. To him, a silent Lightning was better than anyone.

* * *

"What was the name again?"

"Margaret McQueen. Made the reservation last week."

"Right, here it is."

Margaret sat nervously at the hotel's reception desk while the woman working behind it searched for her arrangements on the computer. The Mercedes glanced around, her eyes locking on each car in the room with fear that someone might recognize her. She realized she had no plan.

The race car's mother had arrived at the Phoenix Sky Harbor Airport only a few hours prior. With her husband under the impression that she was currently in Reno visiting her sister, Margaret decided to try and remain inconspicuous. It would not treat her well to have word get back to Franklin.

The Mercedes had been lucky enough to find a hotel just down the street from the hospital, but was surprised at how easy it was to find her son's whereabouts on the internet. It struck her as an invasion of privacy, but she was thankful nonetheless.

"Here are two key cards for you," the receptionist smiled as she pushed the small cards across the counter, "Room 331."

Margaret gave her thanks before locating the elevator. She entered and hit the button to the third floor, hoping no other car would try to get in with her. _I gotta figure this whole thing out._ She thought to herself as she exited the elevator on the third floor.

After finding her door and fiddling with the key, the Mercedes' thoughts were abruptly cut off when she heard a shout come from the room next to her. She frowned and moved out of the way when a light blue Porsche exited the room with the noise and raced down the hallway with tears in her eyes. The Porsche did not look at her. Margaret felt sorry for the girl, but quickly shrugged it off before entering her own room.

"Now, time to come up with a game plan," the maroon car said to herself and then sighed, not sure where to begin.

* * *

Sally didn't feel bad about leaving Sheriff's room in the manner that she did. The Porsche had no idea where she was going, but felt the need to be by herself for some time.

The elevator creaked slightly as Sally descended to the lobby of the hotel. She attempted to calm herself down and clear the tears from her eyes before other cars saw her. By the time she exited the elevator, her eyes were red, but her emotions were under control.

The Porsche eventually found herself sitting in the small courtyard behind the hotel. It was elegant, with a small, white gazebo and garden. The sun radiated and left her outside feeling warm, but it was not enough to lighten her spirits. The gazebo did a good enough job of shading her eyes, and so she found it a suitable spot to sit for a while.

"Beautiful day, isn't it?"

Sally jumped at the sudden remark and turned, surprised to see Doc pulling up next to her. "I can't believe you actually left!" she exclaimed, surprised to see the older car.

"Well, didn't really have a choice. Kid's back in surgery. Thought I'd share the message," Doc gave a small shrug. "It feels nice to be outside, though."

"Is it good or bad that they took him back in?" the Porsche questioned, a worried look on her face.

"Hard to say. Good in that they deemed him stable enough."

"Yeah, I guess you're right," Sally's gaze focused on the ground.

"Something on your mind?" the Hornet questioned, noticing Sally's somber tone.

"A lot, actually. Everything seems to finally be sinking in. I kinda lashed out at everyone upstairs," she gave an embarrassed smile.

"Don't worry. I'm sure they know you didn't mean anything by it," Doc assured her.

"Yeah, just figured I should cool down by myself for a while."

"I understand," Doc responded with a smile. "I'll leave you to it, then. I need to go interact with the others anyway. Can't help but feel like I've been a bit unapproachable lately."

"You? _Never_ ," Sally retorted with great sarcasm. She chuckled slightly, and Doc was pleased to see it.

"Hey, watch it," Doc said, chuckling as he left her alone once more.

* * *

Sally sat for a few minutes after Doc left, and watched the clouds move briskly across the bright sky, as if they had somewhere to be. It only took a short amount of time for her suppressed emotions to come back in the form of tears. What started as light crying quickly turned into choked sobs. Sally hadn't let herself cry until today, and she found that it felt good to finally let it out.

The Porsche took a deep breath as she heard the door open and close behind her, not sure who it was. She figured it was probably Doc again, but was surprised to see the maroon Mercedes that was in the hallway roll up slowly next to her.

"May I sit, dear?"

"Of course," Sally said to the stranger, trying to avoid eye contact so that the Mercedes could not see her crying, but she had noticed anyway.

"Are you alright, honey? My maternal instinct is kicking in and it makes me want to help," Margaret chuckled lightly.

"Oh… yeah, I'm alright. I just…" Sally paused, not sure if she should unload her story to a car she didn't even know, but one look at the Mercedes' kind eyes and Sally felt that she could trust her. Her twinkling, bright blue eyes seemed so familiar to the Porsche, but she wasn't entirely sure why. "My boyfriend.. he, uh… he's been in the hospital for a while," Sally choked back another sob.

"Oh, sweetie I'm so sorry." Margaret gave an empathetic frown.

"Thank you," Sally's gaze averted back to the ground in front of her again. "It's just that… he's had back-to-back accidents, and I-" she paused. "-I don't know it he's gonna make it this time."

Margaret pondered for a moment, "Well, dear, whoever he is, I'm sure he's a strong car. And he needs you to be strong for him," Sally nodded in agreement. "But, that doesn't mean that you're not allowed to be emotional about it. So don't beat yourself up, alright?" Margaret gently nudged her tire.

"Thanks," Sally smiled at the Mercedes. It was definitely obvious that she was a mother. Her advice was evident enough. "This is the first time I've cried since right after the accident," the Porsche admitted. "I'm so used to keeping myself together to help everyone else."

"That can be hard work. You have to make sure you take care of yourself too."

"I will definitely try," Sally chuckled lightly, blinking the last tears out of her eyes. Her mood had significantly changed. "It's Sally, by the way."

"Maggie," the Mercedes exchanged. "Nice to meet you, Sally."

A few minutes after pleasantries were shared, Sally spoke up, content having another car to talk to, "So, what brings you to Phoenix, Maggie?"

"My son is also in the hospital." Margaret smiled sadly, glancing at the ground the same way Sally had.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. I was hoping you'd say vacation."

Margaret laughed at Sally's comment before continuing, "I wish that were the reason why. My son and I haven't spoken for some years now, but I'd hate to not see him if something were to really go wrong. Just not sure how to even go about seeing him. I don't even know what kind of condition he's in."

"That must be hard, but I'm sure he's going to be thrilled to see you," Sally assured her.

"I sure hope so."

"Can I ask why you've lost touch?"

"Well, he lives here, I'm up in Oregon. And he's so busy with what he does, always traveling," Margaret's features saddened as she thought about her husband. "His father never approved of the path he took in life. They both took it pretty hard, and it's been difficult to get in touch ever since."

Sally listened thoughtfully to Margaret's explanation. The Porsche's parents always supported her and her decisions growing up, which made it hard for her to even slightly understand what that must have been like.

"Well, I'm glad that you're reuniting now. I'm sure it'll go great," Sally's confidence was contagious and gave Margaret the boost she had been looking for.

"Thanks, Sally. It means a lot."

"Well, I should probably head back up to my room. I have some friends I need to apologize to. But, it was lovely meeting you, Maggie" Sally said as she began to turn.

"I know they'll forgive you, dear. Don't fret too much."

Sally smiled as she rolled towards the door, but stopped and turned before she reached it. "Oh, and I promise we're not loud."

"Pardon?"

"I noticed you at the door next to our rooms right after our little… tizzy," Sally smiled sheepishly. "I promise you it won't happen again."

"Don't worry about it, those things happen."

The two cars smiled at each other before Sally made her way back inside, leaving Margaret to her own thoughts under the bright sun and gazebo. Their talk would've been very different had they known that they were both discussing their concern for the same car.


End file.
